He watched her. She closed her curtains. He watched her. The lights turned off, footsteps were heard going up the stairs. He watched her. The streetlights came on, a car drove by. He watched her. The clocked ticked away the hours. He watched her. With the grace of a cat, he slid the window open, and climbed in. He watched her. Her eyes were closed, her hair spread out on the pillow. He watched her. He crept closer, confidently. He watched her. She turned, and her eyes opened. He watched her. She opened her mouth to scream- and found it covered by a hand. He watched her. Her eyes darted ‘round the room, searching for escape. He watched her. The knife in his hand glinted as he raised it. He watched her. Slowly, agonizingly, his arm fell, cutting an arc through the air. He watched her. A dark red stain spread on the bedsheets. He watched her. She struggled, terror washing over her features. He watched her. The thrashing subsided, became a weak motion. He watched her. She lay still, a limp figure. He watched her.